The Carpenter's Bride

by Elana Johnson

“No,” he said with a smile. “I’ve got a spare pair.” He took them from his back pocket and extended them toward her.

  Lisa took them, looking down at the masculine, leather gloves that would drown her fingers.

  “Pound it out,” he said, turning in a full circle. “I’ll start by the front door. You can follow me around after that.”

  “Okay.” She put the gloves on the counter and finished making the coffee before joining him in the hallway again. “I should put shoes on.”

  “Good idea,” he said, and she retreated to her bedroom to put on the proper footwear. Back in the hallway, she found him almost to the corner. “It’s about a foot up now. Water seeps.” He didn’t look at her but continued looking at his meter and cutting a line in the wall with a utility knife.

  He reached the corner and straightened. “You could just watch.”

  She jumped, because she’d just been caught staring at this fine, male specimen in her house. “I’m going to try to pound it out,” she said, smiling at him and heading into the kitchen for the hammer.

  The weight of it in her hand felt a little foreign, as she usually didn’t lift more than a pen. Or a package of creamy, glossy stationery.

  Swinging a hammer couldn’t be that much harder than laying out the perfect spread of wedding cakes for a bridezilla to taste. Could it?

  She reached the front door and found the cut line in the wall. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath. “Here we go.” She swung the hammer, but it barely made a dent in the wall.

  “Harder,” Cal said, and Lisa twisted to find him watching her this time. A sly smile touched those lips, and fire danced in those eyes, making them lighter than she’d seen them before.

  Harder, she thought, cocking the hammer back and hitting the wall. A piece of it broke in, right where he’d cut the line in the wall. A squeal came out of her mouth as disbelief coursed through her. “I broke the wall.”

  Cal chuckled and clunked his way toward her. “You sure did. And you’ll have to kind of tear it off the stud here.” He yanked on the edge of the sheetrock, and a huge chunk of it tore off. Lisa was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do that, but she wasn’t going to let him outshine her.

  She reached for the other side of the sheetrock and pulled. A smaller piece came off, but she didn’t hit herself in the face, so she counted it as a win.

  “Nice,” he said, taking the chunk from her. He tossed them in the blue bin and turned around to start marking the other wall.

  After a minute, they settled into the work, the silence between them actually really nice. She pounded and ripped, and he cut and stepped.

  “Did you grow up here?” he asked.

  “I sure did,” she said. “My older sister is married and lives on Maui now. My dad left about five years ago and lives on the mainland now. And I have a younger sister on Oahu.”

  “So you’re in Getaway Bay alone.”

  “I have a cousin on the north side,” she said. “And my mother still lives here. Does real estate around the island, mostly for really rich people up on the bluff.”

  “Mm.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I grew up here as well,” he said. “I’m the oldest of four boys.”

  “I’m surprised we didn’t know each other growing up,” she said, swinging the hammer. “How old are you?”

  “Almost forty,” he said. “And I know better than to ask a woman how old she is.” He wore a smile in his voice, and Lisa giggled.

  “Wise man,” she said. “But I’m thirty-six. That’s not that far apart.”

  “I was raised up in the jungly part of the island,” he said. “My parents still live up there. They help a lot with Sierra.”

  “Jungly part,” she said, fully flirting with him now. “Sounds intriguing.”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She’s just a mile or two away,” she said. “Around toward the volcano.”

  “Okay, sure,” he said.

  Another bang rang out in the house, startling her again. She turned to find him pounding out sections of the wall too. He definitely worked much faster than her, and with two of them swinging hammers, they didn’t talk over the noise.

  Before she knew it, all the walls in the hall, living room, and kitchen were cleared of the wet sheetrock.

  Her stomach growled and she put the hammer on the table. “I’ll make lunch.”

  “I’ll get the bedroom walls cut,” he said.

  Lisa wasn’t the greatest cook on the planet, but she could put together sandwiches and fruit. A dose of self-consciousness hit her, and she worried that maybe Cal didn’t like pineapple or mango.

  Then she reminded herself they lived on a tropical island, filled with fruit. If he didn’t want to eat it, he didn’t have to.

  “It’s ready,” she called over her shoulder, and he came down the hall.

  “Thanks,” he said. “You don’t have to make me lunch. I brought something.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, pulling out a chair at the table. “You’re here, working on my house.”

  “You’re going to pay me,” he said, but he sat down and pulled the plate with the turkey sandwich on it toward him.

  “Still,” she said, joining him at the table. She took a bite of her sandwich and decided to make sure he knew she was interested. At almost forty years old, though, he had to know already.

  She reminded herself that he’d been married and had a fourteen-year-old. So he’d probably been married for a long time.

  “How long were you married?” she asked.

  He coughed and swallowed his bite of sandwich. “Uh, sixteen years.”

  “Wow,” she said. “You must’ve gotten married quite young.”

  “She was a year older than me,” he said. “I was twenty-one.”

  Lisa swallowed, trying not to feel like a complete failure. He’d lived a completely different life than hers. A real life, with a wife and family. A company he owned and operated. If they ended up together, it would be as if he had a second life while she was still waiting for hers to begin.

  He focused on his phone and sent several texts. “Just checking with my crew,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” Lisa said. “But maybe you should send me a text, and then I’ll have your number.”

  He lifted his eyes to hers, and the crackle between them practically had sound in her ears.

  “Ready?” she asked, and he swiped and tapped.

  “Ready.”

  Chapter Six

  Cal’s pulse rippled through his body while Lisa gave him her number. He added it to his phone and then sent her a text. His daughter had taught him the finer ways of emojis, and since he was sitting right in front of the woman he was texting, he sent her a simple thumbs up.

  She grinned at her phone and turned it over, bringing her attention back to him. His whole body felt heated, and he had no idea what to say. Many years had passed since he’d had to worry about flirting, talking to a woman, or making sure he was what she might want.

  He speared another piece of mango and put it in his mouth, and Lisa asked, “When did you start your construction firm?”

  “Oh, let’s see,” Cal said, trying to get his brain to work through the hormones. He had no idea someone his age could even feel this way, because he hadn’t even thought about dating since Jo’s death. “Maybe a year or two after Jo and I got married? We hadn’t had Sierra yet, so fifteen years ago.” With every word he said, he settled a little bit more.

  “Wow,” she said, taking another bite of her sandwich. “You like it?”

  “Love it,” he said. “I always knew I’d have a job with my hands. My dad was a boat maker. Well, he still is, when he can drag himself out to the shop.” Cal chuckled. “He’d rather go fishing these days, than build the boat to do it.”

  “I’ll bet,” Lisa said. “I’m tired of dragging myself to work too.” Something sharp entered her eyes, and she stilled, her fork in mid-air. “
I mean….”

  “It’s okay to not like your job,” he said.

  “I like my job,” she said with a sigh.

  “Doesn’t sound like it,” he said gently, watching her. She was so beautiful—and so different from Jo, from her hair color to her perky personality.

  “I do,” she said. “We’ve just had a lot of changes at Your Tidal Forever, and I’m still adjusting.”

  Cal nodded and finished his lunch. “All right, Miss Lisa. We’ve got a ton more to do today to get your house ready to be put back together again. You ready?”

  She stuffed the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth and nodded. He helped her clean up the dishes, and then they got back to work. He couldn’t help looking at her every few minutes. No matter what he asked her to do, she did it, and he admired that.

  They chatted about their families and pets, and she said, “Next time you come, you’ll have to bring Luna. Suzy would love a new dog pal.”

  “I haven’t been letting her out,” Cal said. “I don’t want her to step on something around the island.”

  “Smart,” Lisa said. “But my house will be put back together soon enough, and then you can bring her.”

  Cal thought of his German shepherd-golden retriever mix, and yes, Luna would love to romp around with the little French bulldog Lisa owned. He hadn’t seen Suzy get off the couch once while he’d been working, and Luna liked a nap on the sofa as much as the next dog.

  “All right,” he said, straightening to stretch his back. A groan came out of his mouth before he could silence it, and instant humiliation moved through him. He sounded like his seventy-four-year-old father, with aching bones.

  “You okay?” Lisa asked, standing too and arching her own back. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She moved into the kitchen and pulled down a bottle of pills. “You want some?”

  “Yes,” he said, joining her in the kitchen. He took the medicine she gave him and waited for her to fill a glass with water, which she handed to him. Her blue eyes burned into him as he swallowed the pills, and the moment between them felt like someone had enveloped them in a magnetic field.

  “Lisa?” he asked, his voice so low it wouldn’t have been heard outside of the bubble of electricity pulsing around the two of them. “Would you go to dinner with me?”

  A smile burst across her face, enhancing her beauty. “Why do you think I gave you my number?” She giggled and stepped into his arms.

  Cal had no idea how to hold a woman anymore, but he managed to embrace her. Drawing in a deep, deep breath, he realized how wonderful this human connection felt.

  “I’d love to go to dinner with you,” Lisa whispered.

  “Great,” Cal said, his voice hardly his own. “I’ll see what’s open and operating and let you know.”

  She stepped back, and Cal waited for the awkwardness to descend on them. But it didn’t. She turned back to the sink and started loading the dishwasher with their lunch dishes, and Cal turned to survey the house.

  “I’ll check the moisture levels again,” he said. “And get the fans set up. And you’ll be good for a few days.”

  “And then?” she asked.

  “And then I’ll come back with my crew and rebuild any studs that need replacing. We’ll put up new drywall and texture it. We’ll fix any soft wood in the flooring and put down new stuff.” He toed the subfloor where they stood. “I don’t think your floor is going to need much. Do you want the same thing you had?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Do I order that, or will you?”

  “We’ll do it all, through your HOA,” he said with a smile. “I better get things finished here and check in with my guys.” He looked at her, the connection between them strong when their eyes met. “It was good to see you, Lisa.”

  She tucked a loose wisp of hair and ducked her head. “Good to see you, too, Cal.”

  He finished at her house quickly and met up with Adam, Cody, Dave, and Marcos to find out how things had gone in the other houses. Because they’d done considerably less flirting with the homeowners assigned to them, his crew had managed to get the six houses on their list demo’ed and drying.

  “So far, so good,” Cal said, looking around at his employees. Friends. “We’ll meet here tomorrow and do the same thing again.”

  “Are we matching paint?” Adam asked.

  “I need to talk to Hailey,” Cal said. “My homeowner asked about flooring.”

  “Also a concern,” Cody confirmed. “We should get things ordered if we want to get this community done on time.”

  “I’ll stop by the office now,” Cal said, though his feet hurt and his stomach grumbled for food. He hadn’t eaten the lunch he’d brought, and Sierra would hopefully have dinner ready when he got home.

  The crew broke up, and Cal lifted his phone to his ear to call his daughter. “Hey, nugget,” he said. “Dinner?”

  “I just put a half a chicken in the pressure cooker,” she said. “And I’m making pasta right now.”

  Relief filled Cal. And love. “Thank you, bug. I have to stop by the HOA office before I’m headed home, but I should be there soon.”

  “All right,” Sierra said, and Cal heard himself in his daughter’s voice.

  He met with Hailey, and they made a plan for supplies. She’d be emailing all the residents to let them know they had one paint choice provided through the HOA, or they could provide their own, and Cal’s crew would paint the repaired part of the walls. The HOA would be providing two types of flooring—carpet or a hard laminate. Again, residents could provide their own flooring and his crew would get it installed.

  “I need to know soon,” he said. “By Monday. Then I can put in the orders and have the supplies when we’re ready for them.”

  “I’ll tell them to fill out the survey by then,” she said, and Cal nodded.

  “Thanks.” He rose and went out to his truck, wishing everyone he worked with was as professional. The specs he got from Your Tidal Forever were always exact, and he did enjoy working with them.

  His other long-term contact was with the Getaway Bay Theater Company, and their stage pieces were a bit more fluid. And dealing with blueprints and plans through a contractor seemed to change on a daily basis. New home construction was one of Cal’s least favorite contracts with his company, but they paid well.

  He just didn’t like the fact that his beloved Getaway Bay was getting bigger, as he much preferred trees for neighbors.

  He sighed as he pulled into his driveway, which was lined with trees on one side, separating him and Sierra from the neighbors. Jolene had loved that part of the house, because she’d been a shy, private person. A self-proclaimed hermit.

  Cal smiled thinking about his late wife. “I met someone new, Jo,” he said. “And I know it took three years, but I did it.”

  His wife had been sick for twenty-five months before she’d passed away. She’d planned her own funeral and said all of her good-byes to the people she loved. They’d all been there, surrounding her bed, when she’d died.

  Cal still slept in that bed, still raised their daughter in the house they’d bought and fixed up together, still loved his wife deeply.

  But she’d wanted him to move on after she died. She’d made him promise to get out there and “meet someone new, Cal. Mingle.”

  Mingle.

  As if Cal knew how to do that.

  A smile touched his mouth, and he got out of the truck. Inside the house, the scent of Alfredo sauce almost covered the smell of fresh paint, and his stomach reminded him of how hungry it was.

  In the kitchen, Sierra had her music playing through the speaker on top of the fridge. He reached up to turn the volume down and said, “Hey. How did things go at the school?”

  “Good,” she said. “We’re starting again on Monday.” She flashed him a smile that seemed a little strained around the edges.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Only a few more weeks until summer anyway.”

  “Dad, there’s eig
ht weeks until summer break.” She rolled her eyes, because she was constantly teasing Cal that he had no sense of time. And he didn’t, so he never argued back with her. “And now we have to go for an extra week.”

  “Yeah, that’s a bummer,” he said, though he didn’t think having his daughter tied up at school was a bad thing. Otherwise, she really had nothing to do. And a teenager with nothing to do could easily find themselves in trouble.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said. “I’m just getting this sauce a little thicker.”

  “I’ll go shower,” Cal said, and he left her in the kitchen.

  Ten minutes later, freshly washed and with damp hair, Cal sat at the bar with his daughter. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, the words clogging his throat.

  “If it’s about Travis—” she started.

  “It’s not,” he said, because they’d already had that argument. Sierra had promised to tell Cal everything, and he got free access to her phone. If she found herself in trouble with the boy, he’d made her promise to call him, anytime. Day or night. He couldn’t help worrying about his daughter, and he’d often felt like he was fumbling in the dark for the past three years as she moved from child to teenager.

  “It’s about me,” he said. “And my, uh, dating life.”

  “Dating life?” Sierra burst out laughing. “Dad, never say that again.” She shook her head as she continued to chuckle.

  “What would you prefer?” he asked, glad the mood was light between them. “Love life?”

  “Ew, no.” She looked at him, and Cal could see so much of Jo in her. “Who are you going out with?”

  “Lisa Ashford,” he said. “The blonde woman that was with me on the day of the tsunami?” He watched Sierra for her reaction. If she had one, she didn’t show it.

  “She seemed nice,” his daughter said, and Cal nodded.

  “I just asked her to dinner,” he said. “We haven’t gone yet or anything.”

  A few seconds of silence passed, and then Sierra asked. “So how’s this going to work? You want me to meet her? You want to go out with her a few times first?”

  Cal had no idea how to date as a single parent. He didn’t know he needed rules for himself. Or a plan for Sierra.